


Heading Toward The End (But So Far To Go)

by flipflop_diva



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, Falling In Love, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, M/M, Misunderstandings, Multi, Natasha Romanov Feels, Nightmares, POV Alternating, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Rashomon-Style Fic, Road Trips, Sam Wilson Feels, Sharing a Bed, Steve Rogers Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:02:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27197560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/pseuds/flipflop_diva
Summary: Steve, Sam and Natasha head out to follow a lead on Bucky. But they have a lot more to figure out than that.(A Rashomon-style fic told from all three POVs)
Relationships: Natasha Romanov/Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov/Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31
Collections: Fic In A Box





	1. Steve

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Silvereye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silvereye/gifts).



**STEVE**

They were on their last and most important load — the snacks for the road — when they came up short. She was perched on the hood of the car, cleaning her pistol and looking as nonchalant as one could look.

They stared at her, and she looked up at them as if she had just noticed they were there (she definitely had not just noticed they were there) and smirked at them.

“Hello, boys,” she said. “Are we ready to go?”

“Natasha,” Steve said as Sam said, “Go where?”

Natasha peered at her pistol, blew on it like she was cleaning off a speck of dust only she could see and then tucked it back in the waistband of her pants. “I thought we were going to find Bucky.”

“I thought you were going to find yourself,” Steve said.

Her eyes narrowed a little at that, and he thought for a second that a flicker of something crossed her face, but it was gone so fast, he wasn’t sure if he were imagining things.

“I thought this would be more fun,” she said. “Plus you need my help.”

“No, we don’t,” Steve and Sam said together, but even to Steve’s ears, it sounded like a lie. They all knew it. 

They weren’t totally hopeless without her or anything, but he and Sam had been searching for what felt like day and night since he’d been released from the hospital three months ago, and every lead just led to more and more dead ends. Probably like the one they were about to follow, but at least this one was coming with a road trip and a chance to get away for a few days.

Natasha didn’t seem phased by their less than enthusiastic greeting. She swung herself off the car, walked over to them, reached out and stole the bag of potato chips from Sam’s arms and grinned.

“Let’s get going,” she said, and was in the car before they could argue. 

Steve and Sam looked at each other. Steve thought Sam looked almost a little too happy about this turn of events. He couldn’t blame him there.

He tossed Sam the keys and got in the passenger seat. It was time to go find Bucky.

\--

Sam and Natasha were flirting. Which was fine. And expected. And the reason Steve was now in the backseat pretending to be asleep, headphones over his ears, while they giggled together in the front seat. He could picture the way Natasha was probably leaning over to touch Sam’s arm or his leg or just the way she was probably looking at him with that intense expression she liked to use.

The way she had looked at Steve sometimes, back before SHIELD fell, before Hydra, before they went on the run. That look she would give him when she was trying to get him to admit something she thought he should admit. That look she gave him in the car ride to Camp Lehigh when he told her she made it hard for him to trust her.

He squeezed his eyes together tighter. He was being stupid. She had been flirting with him for two years, ever since the day he met her, and he had never thought of her as anything more than a colleague and maybe somewhat of a friend — or at least as much of a friend as people could be in their line of work.

Not until that same road trip to Camp Lehigh. Not until she had revealed a part of herself to him that was more than just the super cool, super confident, super talented spy. 

But it’s not like he had said anything to her, or had any plans to say anything to her, so why should he be upset if she wanted to flirt with Sam, or if Sam wanted to flirt with her? She wasn’t his, and neither was Sam.

Even if he and Sam were roommates now. Even if they spent every day together, and every night too. Even if he hadn’t felt something for anyone since Bucky or since Peggy. 

That was his problem, not Sam’s or Natasha’s, and he needed to deal with it on his own. Besides, he’d known they’d liked each other since the day they had met — it was only his own ego that had him hoping they would both like him more that they liked each other. Or at least he had hoped that one of them would. It wasn’t like he wanted to date both of them. Or even could if he wanted to.

In the front seat, Natasha said something to Sam that made him laugh, loud and joyful, and Steve creaked his eyes open enough to see her shift over in her seat and lean in closer to him.

He closed his eyes again and turned up the volume on his headphones.

\--

“You okay?”

They had stopped at a greasy burger joint off the side of the road to grab some food. The late afternoon sun was beginning to dip down behind the trees in the distance, and a very small breeze was kicking up. The burger place had a section of dilapidated chairs and tables out front, but they were away from the few other customers who were glancing over at them while they ordered.

Sam had stayed inside to grab their food while Steve had gone out to wait at the tables. He thought Natasha would have stayed with Sam, but she plopped down on the chair beside him, appraising him over the top of her sunglasses that had slipped down her nose a little.

Steve forced himself to smile at her, reminding himself that his weird feelings were not her problem to deal with. 

“Yeah,” he said, but he also couldn’t lie to her. She would know, and he wasn’t that type of person. “Just a lot going on.”

It was the truth. In a way.

Natasha nodded, her eyes softening behind her sunglasses. He knew she thought he was talking about Bucky, and that was fine. Bucky was part of it too.

“We won’t stop looking until we find him,” she said, her voice quiet.

He studied her. She had done her hair in two little braids on the sides of her head and was dressed in a pair of denim shorts and a black tank top. She looked so much younger and innocent than he was used to seeing her. 

He looked away from her as the door to the burger place opened with a jingle, and he could see Sam walking toward them.

“Yeah,” he said, his throat feeling tight.

He felt her hand on his arm as she squeezed slightly. He wanted to ask her why she had really shown up this morning, how she had known where they were going, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answers.

\--

It was Steve’s turn behind the wheel. He drove while Sam fiddled with the radio and Natasha slept in the backseat. Or pretended to. Steve wasn’t sure she ever really slept in anyone’s presence. He had a lot of memories of waking up when they were on missions to find her wide awake, even after two, three days of no sleep. He’d always figured it had something to do with her past, and she would tell him if she wanted. So far, she hadn’t wanted.

Sam glanced back at her as they drove, as if to also determine whether he thought she was really asleep. 

“It feels right have her here,” he said quietly, glancing at Steve. “I don’t know why.”

Steve couldn’t help but smile a little at that. “You don’t?”

“Should I?”

“With the way you two have been flirting all day? Yeah, you probably should.”

He turned to look at Sam, who appeared entirely confused by Steve’s words. “It didn’t mean anything,” Sam said. 

“It didn’t look that way.”

Sam shook his head. “You know it’s not me she likes, right?”

Steve glanced back at the road — there were no other cars even in sight — and then at Sam again. No, he had no idea. He’d never actually talked with Natasha about things like that. She had spent the last two years trying unsuccessfully to set him up with every single woman who worked for SHIELD, but they hadn’t ever really discussed her own love life. 

He realized with a start that he had just assumed there wasn’t anybody special in her life because she hadn’t said anything ever.

“No,” he said now, feeling like the world’s biggest ass and turning his attention back to driving.

From the corner of his eye, Steve saw Sam shake his head. “Sometimes you’re such an idiot,” he said, his voice teasing, but Steve didn’t find the humor in it. Apparently, he was.

\--

Dinner was at a gas station McDonald’s, sitting on the curb by where they had parked the car.

“I can’t believe I’m eating this,” Natasha muttered, shoving two chicken nuggets into her mouth at once.

“What, were you off having luxurious dinners while you were finding yourself?” Sam teased, and Natasha glared at him.

“No,” she said. “And that’s not what I was doing.”

“What were you doing?” Steve asked.

“You know I’m not going to tell you.”

“Are you going to tell us why you came back?” he said. 

Natasha paused, another nugget halfway to her mouth. Then she shrugged. “Maybe I missed you.”

“And it was just a coincidence you showed up today?”

“Maybe it was.”

He looked at her, his expression hardening. She wasn’t going to tell them, that much was clear. Just like the many other things she had failed to mention in all the time they spent working together. He didn’t know why it was bothering him so much right now, but he felt frustration well within him. 

He stood up. “I’ll be back. I need to go clear my head.”

“Steve …”

He didn’t turn around to look at her. She was obviously more comfortable talking to Sam than him. So he would let her tell Sam if she wanted. He didn’t care.

\--

Sam was waiting by the car when Steve got back. Natasha wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Steve stopped in front of Sam, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans.

“Sorry,” he muttered to Sam. “That wasn’t cool.”

Sam cocked his head and shrugged. “Feeling better?”

“The walk helped,” Steve said. “There’s just …” He paused, trying to find the words to explain it to Sam. Or at least to explain some of it. “There’s just a lot.”

“I know.” Sam’s hand was warm on his arm. Comforting. Safe. The way it had been the past few months when it was just the two of them. So many times he had wanted to kiss him. To say something. But he hadn’t. And now was definitely not the time.

Steve spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. Natasha had returned, her arms laden with three tall cups. She stopped in front of them, a smile on her face, and handed one to each of them.

“Milkshakes,” she said. 

“Thanks,” Steve said, taking the cup. It was vanilla. His favorite.

Natasha was looking at him, almost expectantly, like she was waiting for something. But he wasn’t sure what she wanted. He wasn’t sure what he’d say even if he did know what she wanted. “You want to drive?” he asked her instead.

She snatched the keys from his hand with a smirk. “I thought you’d never ask.”

\--

The town they stopped in couldn’t have been more than a few blocks long. Natasha eyed Steve as she slowed the car down, turning into the parking lot of the only hotel for what was probably miles around.

“Are you sure about this intel?” she asked.

“No, not at all,” he answered.

“Okay,” she said. She parked the car and stared around at the rundown hotel, shrugging. “I’ve stayed in worse.”

“As long as there are no bugs, I’m good,” Sam said. “And there’s even a diner across the street,” he pointed.

“Great,” Natasha said. “So tonight we get some sleep, and tomorrow we can figure out where to go from here.”

Steve nodded as he exited the car. The guilt he had been feeling since he’d left Sam and Natasha at the McDonald’s was weighing on him. He knew, whatever reason she came back, she was trying to help them, and it wasn’t fair for him to be upset with her over things he had no right to be upset by. She didn’t owe them anything, and he should be grateful she was even here now. They really could use her help.

He and Sam followed Natasha inside and up to the teenage boy at the front desk who looked half asleep.

“Can I help you?” the teen asked.

“We want some rooms for the night,” Natasha said, giving the kid her most winning smile. The kid stood up straighter, suddenly much more awake, it seemed. Sam caught Steve’s eye and hid a smile.

The kid typed something into the old computer on the desk. “We only have one room left,” he said.

“That’s fine. We’ll take it,” Natasha answered.

“There’s only one bed.”

Of course there was. Sam and Steve glanced at each other again. What was the last hotel they had even passed before this?

“That’s fine,” Natasha said. She pulled a wad of cash from her purse. Steve, Sam and the kid all stared at her as she looked back up, waiting for the amount.

A few minutes later, keys in hand (and what Steve was pretty sure was the kid’s phone number written on the back of the one he handed Natasha), they were opening the door to a small room with a king size bed taking up much of the space and a small dresser taking up most of the rest. There was barely enough room to walk otherwise.

Steve felt his heart sink when he looked around. Then he glanced at his two friends beside him.

“I can sleep in the car,” he told them. “You two can have the room.”

It would just be for a night. They could find a better place for tomorrow. And it made sense. The two of them were so comfortable together.

“No,” Sam and Natasha answered immediately, perfectly in sync.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Steve,” Natasha said. “I’m the smallest. You guys take the bed. I can sleep on the floor.”

“You aren’t sleeping on the floor,” Steve told her.

“I can take the floor,” Sam said. “Or the car.”

“No,” Steve and Natasha both responded.

“I barely need sleep anyway,” Steve said.

“I’ve slept in way worse places than a floor,” Natasha said. 

“I really don’t mind,” Sam said.

They all stared at each other, no one budging.

“Fine,” Natasha said finally when it was clear they were otherwise going to be standing there all night. “Why don’t we all just share then?”

Steve eyed the bed. So did the other two. They would fit, but barely. A day ago, he might not have minded. But the feelings he was having about his two friends and being in such close proximity to them …

No. He was an adult. An adult who could control himself. And this was just another mission and they needed sleep. All of them.

“If you’re sure,” Steve heard himself say.

“I’m sure,” Natasha said.

“Fine,” Sam agreed.

That settled it. An hour later, they all lay in the bed in the dark, Steve and Sam on the edges, Natasha in the middle. Steve was as close to the edge as he could get, but Natasha was still almost on top of him, all soft and warm.

He closed his eyes and tried not to think about it.

\--

He woke up to a scream. And then another one.

He was awake and out of bed before he even realized what was going on. So was Sam.

_Natasha._

She was still asleep, trapped in a nightmare, thrashing wildly as she screamed.

Sam looked at Steve, and Steve reached for her, trapping her hands so she couldn’t use them against him and calling her name loudly and forcefully.

Natasha’s eyes flew open, terror across her face.

“Natasha!” Steve called. “It’s okay. It’s us. It’s Steve, it’s Sam, you’re okay.”

Recognition flowed back into her eyes. He dropped her hands. In the soft glow of the light Sam had just switched on, Steve could see Natasha’s face turn red. He had never seen her blush before. He had never seen her look even remotely embarrassed before.

He took a hand he had just dropped and squeezed. “It’s okay,” he told her. “It happens.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. She dropped her head to stare at their joined hands.

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” Sam said.

“Come on,” Steve told her. “Let’s try to go back to sleep.”

Natasha looked up at him then. The fear was visible in her eyes.

“We’ve got you,” he told her. 

“We both do,” Sam said.

It took a little convincing, but they eventually got her to lay back down, her back against Steve’s chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her. Sam lay close to her on her other side, her head on his chest, his arm over both her and Steve’s arms.

Steve lay awake long after Natasha’s breathing evened out and Sam’s soft snores began. Part of him wished they could stay like this forever. Curled up together. The two people he cared about more than anyone else in the world.

He closed his eyes.

Fuck. He was in trouble.


	2. Natasha

**NATASHA**

Binoculars in hand, her body ready to leap, Natasha hesitated. 

Sam and Steve had disappeared inside once more. In a few minutes, or less, they would be out with the rest of their stuff and then they would be in the car and heading out. If she was really going to do this, this was her only chance.

 _You’re being stupid._ She could hear Clint’s voice in her head. _All you’ve wanted for three months was to go back and help them. So go back and help them._

Natasha closed her eyes for a quick second, summoned all the courage she usually didn’t need to worry about, and leapt, landing lightly on her feet just a few yards from where the car was parked. 

Still no sign of Steve and Sam returning. She walked over to Sam’s car and climbed up on to the hood — the vehicle was a standard sedan, not nearly as fun as the cars SHIELD used to let her drive but with enough room to easily accommodate a third passenger — crossed her legs and waited.

She felt weird. Shaky. 

Nervous.

It was an unusual feeling for her, and she hated that it had to do with these two men, but everything when it came to these two was unusual. Or so it seemed. 

It had been three months since she had kissed Steve goodbye in a cemetery and headed out. She thought she’d return to one of her nicer safe houses, change her hair, try to blend in and figure out what to do next. She had spent her entire life on her own, never needing — or wanting — anyone. She hadn’t expected this to be any different.

But it had been. All she could think about the whole time she was gone was Steve. And Sam. Wondering where they were and what they were doing and if they were together and if they’d had any luck finding Bucky.

So she had returned to D.C. Because she needed to make sure they were safe. That’s what she told herself anyway. And she had watched them and checked on them and maybe slipped them a few leads of her own.

And they were safe. And they seemed almost happy together. They took runs in the mornings. They ordered takeout at night.

“I think I know why Steve didn’t want to date any of the women I tried to set him up with,” she told Clint one night, and she could almost hear her best friend roll his eyes on the other end of the phone.

“You, Natasha Romanoff, the most observant person in the world missed that Steve Rogers was gay?” Clint had laughed. “Or maybe he just didn’t like the women you chose.”

“I chose great women!” she had retorted.

“Did you now?”

She’d laughed along with Clint, but when she had hung up, she’d felt something she’d never felt before. An ache deep inside. She didn’t understand it, but it had been there ever since, every time she thought of the two of them.

But in the last few weeks it had gotten so bad. Which was why she was here. But now she was nervous because she wasn’t sure what they would think. If they would want her. If they even thought about her.

But the front door was opening and it was too late for second guessing.

Natasha yanked one of her pistols from her back pocket and pretended to be cleaning it, plastered a smirk on her face and let her body relax in to her most nonchalant position.

Steve and Sam were talking, animatedly, their arms loaded down with chips and cookies and soft drinks.

Steve noticed her first. He stopped walking, his mouth dropping open, his eyes widening. Sam saw him stop, frowned and then saw her too. A grin lit up his face.

“Hello, boys,” she said to them, with the air she liked to use when she knew no one could resist her. “Are we ready to go?”

They both kept staring at her, a little like deer in headlights.

“Natasha,” Steve finally said, and she tried not to wince at the slight coldness in his voice. But Sam was grinning at her at least. 

“Go where?” Sam said cheerfully.

Natasha played along. “I thought we were going to find Bucky?”

“I thought you were going to find yourself?” Steve said. Again, his voice was flat and cold. 

It stung. More than words should ever sting.

She forced herself to not react.

“I thought this would be more fun,” she said. “Plus you need my help.” She looked pointedly at all the stuff they had in their arms.

“No, we don’t,” Steve and Sam said together. Steve looked like he wanted to glare at her, but Sam was teasing her. 

At least one of them wanted her

But she was here, and there was no going back now. She and Steve had been a perfect team for a couple of awful days. All she had to do was remind him of that.

She swung herself off the car, walked over to them, reached out and plucked the bag of potato chips from Sam’s arms and grinned at him as his eyes narrowed playfully at her.

“Let’s get going,” she said, and then she walked over to the car and slipped in the backseat before Steve could yell at her and tell her to go home.

She didn’t turn around to see their interactions, but a few moments later, Sam was getting in the driver’s seat and Steve in the front passenger seat and then Sam was starting the car and they were off.

She felt the pressure in her chest loosen a little, and she allowed herself to open the chips she had taken and start eating.

\--

Natasha wasn’t sure what she had been expecting. For it to be easy? For it to feel like it had those days they had spent together on the run? But the more she thought about it, the more ridiculous that seemed.

They’d had a mission then, a larger purpose, and they were working together because they were all they had. And even afterward, it had still been the immediate effects.

But she was the one who had left them, and they were the two who had been together. She could see how much they cared about each other — that much had been obvious from all the time she spent watching them, but maybe she had underestimated how open they were with each other. Maybe they had wanted this trip to just be them, for more reasons than just finding Bucky.

Guilt, and a little regret, settled into her as they drove, but she had never been one to linger on regrets. She was here now, so she needed to make the best of it. She could always slip off after she helped them look for Bucky. She at least owed them that much.

She tried to keep the conversation light, focusing on some of their adventures to find Bucky and their free time they’d had without SHIELD.

Sam seemed fine, talking to her, laughing, joking, but Steve almost seemed to radiate cold toward her. Which hurt more than she had expected. He had never been so openly antagonistic toward her, even when Fury first assigned them as partners and he had most definitely not wanted to be put with her.

But of course, it didn’t bother her back then that he didn’t want to be with her. But it did bother her now.

\--

A few hours into their trip, they decided to stop for a bite to eat. Steve and Natasha had switched spots. Steve had claimed he wanted to nap, but she had a feeling he just didn’t want to listen to her anymore. But Sam was nice to talk to. He laughed at her jokes and told her funny stories in return, and he at least made her feel like maybe he was okay with her being there.

She thought maybe she could ask him about Steve when they were alone, but what was she going to say? Did he mention her? Did he secretly hate her? She would sound like a school kid. She wasn’t supposed to care.

According to the map on her phone, a burger joint was up ahead. She wrinkled her nose when they pulled in. It was more rundown than she was expecting, but there were a few old rusty chairs and tables outside so at least they could get a few moments of fresh air.

There were a lot of cars in the parking lot for such a rundown place and a lot of people inside. She put on a pair of sunglasses and handed Steve a hat, hoping people wouldn’t recognize them. She wasn’t in the mood to deal with the public, and Steve still seemed like he was going to bite anyone who came too close.

Sam seemed to sense the situation as well. He offered to place their order once Natasha and Steve took a look at the menu and told him what they wanted. Steve escaped outside first, and Natasha followed.

He was sitting in a chair at one of the tables, looking way too big for the rusty piece of furniture. She glanced inside, at the line Sam was in, and then made up her mind.

She walked over to Steve and took a seat. 

“You okay?” she asked him.

He jumped a little, like he hadn’t seen her there, even though she had been right behind him, but then she saw him force himself to relax and a tiny smile appeared on his face. Not his real smile, but at least it was something.

“Yeah,” he said, but she knew he was just saying that. Every action since she had shown up confirmed that. 

“Just a lot going on,” he continued.

She nodded. She understood that. She didn’t necessarily believe him, but she could play along. At least he was talking to her. 

“We won’t stop looking until we find him,” she said, deciding to pretend he was talking about Bucky and not about her or about his relationship with Sam.

His eyes met hers. She tried to read him, but before she could, the door to the burger place opened with a jingle and Sam was walking toward them.

“Yeah,” Steve said quietly, and Natasha couldn’t help it. She reached out and squeezed his arm, trying to convey in her touch that he could still trust her, that she was now — more than ever — the same person she had been after Hydra fell.

He shifted in his seat, knocking her hand away. She adjusted her sunglasses. Her eyes stung. She was glad no one could really see her.

\--

Natasha took the back seat for the next leg. Regret wasn’t usually something she worried about in a daily context, but she was beginning to think maybe she should have just stayed away and let Steve and Sam have their time together. 

She closed her eyes while Steve drove, pretending to be asleep so they wouldn’t have to worry about including her. She could hear them talking in lower than normal voices, and she imagined their fingers laced together as they traded loving looks. 

She had a feeling Clint would tell her she was being stupid. If she wanted to help them — and she knew she could — she should help them and stop worrying about what they thought of her. She never had before, so why was everything suddenly different now?

They stopped at a McDonald’s for dinner over Natasha’s protests, but there really weren’t any better options, and they still had five or six hours to go before they’d get to the town closest to where Bucky had been spotted. 

They took their food outside to sit on the curb by the car. Natasha opened hers carefully. Even after all these years, she still wasn’t sure why Americans were so fond of this stuff.

“I can’t believe I’m eating this,” she muttered as she bit into her chicken nuggets.

Sam, sitting to her left, grinned at her. “What, were you off having luxurious dinners while you were finding yourself?” he joked.

“No,” she said, trying not to roll her eyes. “And that’s not what I was doing.”

“What were you doing?” Steve said. His voice was deadly serious, not the teasing manner that Sam’s had.

She looked at him, gauging her response carefully. “You know I’m not going to tell you,” she settled on. It was the truth, and they didn’t need to know where she had gone — or not gone, as it may be.

“Are you going to tell us why you came back?” he asked, and this time, his voice had a bitterness to it that hadn’t been there before. 

Natasha paused, a nugget halfway to her mouth. She decided to go back to the lightheartedness of Sam’s first question. “Maybe I missed you,” she teased.

“And it was just a coincidence you showed up today?”

“Maybe it was.”

She smiled at him, to show him she wasn’t being serious, but his eyes flashed, and for a moment, she saw the dangerous man that enemies were loath to cross. The only other time she remembered him turning that expression on her was when she showed up with the thumb drive at the hospital where Fury didn’t die.

He stood up, his eyes still cold and hard and furious looking. He stared pointedly at Sam. “I’ll be back,” he said. “I need to go clear my head.”

She blinked as Steve turned away from her and Sam. What had happened? 

“Steve … ?” she called out tentatively, but he didn’t stop or pause or turn around. He just stalked off across the parking lot, away from her.

She watched him go, the food in her hand forgotten. She felt Sam’s eyes on her. She glanced at him.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have come.”

Sam shook his head. “Don’t worry about him,” he said, and she had a feeling he was using his most gentle voice, like she was a little kid who was going to cry if someone hurt her feelings. “He’s just stressed. The search for Bucky isn’t going so well.”

“Yeah,” she said. “But if I wasn’t here …”

“It’s not you, Natasha. He’s just in his own head.”

She didn’t answer. Instead she picked up a couple fries and stared down at them, wondering why she was even bothering to eat them.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Sam said. 

She looked up to see him smiling softly at her. “I missed you,” he said.

She forced herself to smile back at him. “I guess I thought about you once or twice.”

He laughed at that, and the smile on her face turned into a real one.

“Sounds about right,” he said.

They ate their food in silence, but it felt more comfortable than any other moment of their trip so far. Steve didn’t return, and they couldn’t see him from where they were sitting.

She shoved her food, still half uneaten, back in the bag. 

“I’ll be right back,” she told Sam. She had just remembered the night before they arrived at Camp Lehigh, her and Steve at a little diner a few miles down the road from the old base, Steve telling her about the milkshakes he used to love when he was a kid.

A few minutes later, she headed back outside with three vanilla milkshakes in her hands. They probably weren’t going to compare to the ones in Steve’s memory, but it was the closest she could get for the moment.

She walked toward the car and saw Sam and Steve standing together, their bodies mostly hidden by the shadows cast from the parking lot lights. They were close together, heads almost touching. She could see Sam’s hand on Steve’s arm.

Something inside her jolted, but she forced herself to ignore it. She moved closer to them. 

Steve spotted her first and looked up. Sam stepped back a few inches, his hand dropping to his side.

She held out the cups in her hands. “Milkshakes?” she offered.

Steve took one from her, and for the first time since she arrived, he actually looked happy at something she had done.

“Thanks,” he said, his voice warmer than it had been all day. 

She nodded as Sam took his drink too.

“You want to drive?” Steve asked her. He held the keys between her fingers.

She took them from him with a grin. “I thought you’d never ask.”

\--

She had expected the town where they had planned to stay to be small but not this small. It looked almost deserted, like everyone had forgotten it existed. There was a small street of houses, a few mom-and-pop type shops and one rundown hotel that didn’t look like it was meant to withstand human occupancy, but they didn’t have much choice if they wanted to sleep somewhere.

She glanced at Steve, who was sitting in the front next to her.

“Are you sure about this intel?” she asked.

“No, not at all,” he answered with a grin, and for the first time, it felt almost normal, like they were just two partners on another mission.

“Okay,” she laughed. She parked the car in one of the empty spots — how were there so many cars here? — and stared over at the rundown hotel, shrugging. “I’ve stayed in worse.”

“As long as there are no bugs, I’m good,” Sam said from the backseat. “And there’s even a diner across the street.”

She looked where he was pointing. “Great. So tonight we get some sleep, and tomorrow we can figure out where to go from here.”

She got out of the car and headed into the hotel, followed by Steve and Sam. A teenage boy sat behind the desk, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. She put on her best flirty smile and approached the desk.

She saw the teenager’s — Brian, his nametag read — eyes widen as he took her in.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

“We want some rooms for the night,” she told him.

Brian typed something into the old computer on the desk. “We only have one room left,” he announced, looking up and glancing at Steve and Sam behind her.

“That’s fine. We’ll take it,” she told him.

“There’s only one bed.” He said it like he thought it would be a deal breaker.

Natasha reached into her purse and pulled out some cash. “That’s fine,” she said. “How much?”

A couple minutes later, Brian was handing over the keys and giving Sam and Steve dirty looks. Like maybe he had a chance with her if she wasn’t going to be sharing a bed with the two of them.

He pointed them to an old, cramped elevator, and they found their room at the end of a barely lit hallway. 

The room was even smaller than Natasha had imagined. The king-sized bed took up almost the whole thing, with a small shoddily made dresser shoved in a corner. There wasn’t even room for a turnout bed if they wanted to go that route.

They had all barely stepped inside before Steve was shaking his head.

“I can sleep in the car,” he said. “You two can have the room.”

Natasha stared at him. There was no way she was going to make Steve and Sam sleep apart. She was the intruder here.

“No,” she said, the same time Sam did. “Don’t be ridiculous, Steve,” she added. “I’m the smallest. You guys take the bed. I can sleep on the floor.”

“You aren’t sleeping on the floor,” Steve told her immediately.

“I can take the floor,” Sam said. “Or the car.”

“No.” This time it was her and Steve who spoke at the same time.

“I barely need sleep anyway,” Steve said.

Natasha shook her head. “I’ve slept in way worse places than a floor.”

“I really don’t mind,” Sam said.

They all stared at each other, but Natasha had a feeling no one was going to give in. It really left only one choice. Not a good choice, but she wasn’t going to let either Steve or Sam sleep on the floor or in the car or in the bathtub.

“Why don’t we all just share?” she suggested carefully.

She saw them both turn to look at the bed, and then they all looked at each other. They would fit, though maybe not super comfortably, but was there any other option?

Apparently Steve had come to the same conclusion she had. “If you’re sure,” he said.

“I’m sure,” she answered.

“Fine,” Sam said.

She ended up in the middle, despite her protests. She knew Steve and Sam would probably rather be by each other, but she was the smallest, and it was easier for them to take the edges. She curled up on her side, trying to make herself as unobtrusive as possible.

Maybe, she thought, as she listened to them both breathe on either side of her, she could sneak out once they fell asleep. After all, she was never really good about sleeping in front of other people.

\--

_Natasha was spinning. And spinning. And spinning. Her toes hurt from being pointed, her muscles hurt from the same repetitive motions, but she didn’t stop. She could see the blurred shapes of the other girls and of the Madame watching, she could hear crying and screaming and the sound of gunshots, but still she kept spinning, her hands above her head, perfectly curled, never wavering, just spinning and spinning and spinning._

_She felt something hit her. A pain in her side. She looked down. Saw red splattering down her front, down her legs._

_But she had messed up. She had moved._

_The screaming was louder now, directed at her. She tried to return to her position, to keep spinning, but someone had grabbed her, was holding her against their body._

_There were two figures behind Madame. They were blurry but she knew who they were._

_“No!” she screamed, as Madame turned a gun on them. “No!”_

_An explosion sounded in front of her. One of the figures — Sam — crumpled to the ground. She screamed again._

_Another explosion sounded. Steve fell._

_She kept screaming. And screaming and screaming and screaming._

_But someone else was screaming too, over the din._

_“Natasha! Natasha!”_

Her eyes flew open, a scream still echoing from her mouth, her body writhing. Hands were gripping her, hard, holding her in place.

She thrashed, trying to throw them off, as her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting.

Someone was still talking to her.

“Natasha! It’s okay. It’s us. It’s Steve, it’s Sam, you’re okay.”

Steve.

It was Steve.

Immediately she went limp, all the fight going out of her body. She recognized the room now — the too-cramped hotel room with the one bed. Steve was in front of her, his hands on hers, holding her in place. Sam was beside him.

It was a nightmare. Just a nightmare. She had let her guard down. She had fallen asleep.

She felt her face burn in the dark room as Steve dropped her hands and then changed his mind and took hold of one of them again.

He felt warm and safe. She felt clammy.

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “It happens.”

Not to her, it didn’t. At least not when she was around other people. Her nightmares were her own demons to bear, not other people’s. She felt her face burn more.

She couldn’t look at Steve or at Sam. She couldn’t stand to see the pity in their eyes. If they knew what she remembered …

She stared at her hands, trying to figure a way out of the situation. For one of the few times in her life, she felt lost.

“I’m sorry,” she heard herself saying. She didn’t know what else to say.

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” It was Sam. He had moved closer and had sat down beside her and Steve.

“Come on,” Steve said. “Let’s try to go back to sleep.”

That was the last thing Natasha wanted to do. No, she couldn’t. It was too embarrassing, too shameful.

“We’ve got you.” Steve’s voice cut across her thoughts. 

“We both do,” Sam said.

She wanted to say no, but the way they were both looking at her ... Something burned inside her. It was why she had come back. As much as she didn’t want to admit it.

She let them lay her back down, let them position her so her back was against Steve’s chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, warm and safe. Sam lay close to her on her other side, his hand going up to cup her head and placing it against his chest. Then he wrapped his arm over her and Steve both.

She closed her eyes. In her mind, a piece of conversation played again and again, like on repeat.

“I don’t even know why I keep checking up on them,” she had said to Clint with a sigh. “I’m being ridiculous.”

“You are,” Clint had agreed. “But that’s what people do when they’re in love.”

She had almost hung up on him. But with Steve and Sam holding her close, she had an awful feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Fuck. She was in trouble.


	3. Sam

**SAM**

The tension was palpable. It had been ever since this morning when they walked out of the apartment to find Natasha perched on the hood of his car, pistol in hand, grinning at them like she had just given them the best surprise of their lives.

He had thought so — it hadn’t been the same without her. Which was a little odd, considering that in some respects he _barely_ knew her. She and Steve had come into his life out of nowhere, but what they had gone through together bonded them in a way that was hard to break. Or at least it had felt like it at the time.

But then she was gone, and it was him and Steve, and even though some of the past three months were the best days of his life since before Riley died, it had always seemed like something was missing. And then that something was on the hood of the car and jumping into the backseat with them.

But Steve was obviously not as thrilled to see her. Sam had always thought that her leaving had hurt him a lot deeper than he ever wanted to admit. But the way he had looked at her and talked to her this morning just confirmed it: Steve had fallen for her, and she had just walked away without looking back.

Except Sam had a weird feeling it wasn’t all that simple. And that feeling had been growing more and more pronounced all day. He had seen the way Natasha looked at Steve when she thought he wasn’t looking, and he had watched her face when Steve was being not quite friendly with her. She might have been a pro at mastering her feelings and reactions, but there were some things that always slipped through. And Sam was sure those things were real.

But right now, he had other things on his mind. Namely, how he had managed to somehow end up at a McDonald’s in the middle of nowhere with a super soldier and an assassin turned former SHIELD agent who clearly had unresolved issues with each other.

Natasha was picking at her nuggets while Steve was swallowing his cheeseburgers practically whole. 

“I can’t believe I’m eating this,” Natasha mumbled. She stared down at her nuggets before putting two of them in her mouth at once. Sam thought she looked miserable.

He decided to keep the mood light if he could. “What,” he said, in a teasing voice, “Were you off having luxurious dinners while you were finding yourself?” 

Natasha swallowed and narrowed her eyes at him, but when she answered, he could hear the lilt in her voice. 

“No,” she said, laughing a little. “And that’s not what I was doing.”

“What were you doing?” Steve cut in, and both Sam and Natasha froze. His question was deadly serious.

Natasha looked stunned for a second, but then she gave Steve a half-hearted smile. “You know I’m not going to tell you.”

“Are you going to tell us why you came back?” he asked, his question almost needlessly aggressive. 

Natasha paused, another nugget halfway to her mouth. Sam saw her glance in his direction, as if she was wondering if he was going to intervene, but then she shrugged. “Maybe I missed you,” she said, and the teasing note was still in her voice.

“And it was just a coincidence you showed up today?” Steve’s voice was still hard.

“Maybe it was,” she answered.

Steve’s expression changed. Hardened. He got to his feet, turning his attention on Sam.

“I’ll be back,” he said, his voice almost angry. “I need to go clear my head.”

He turned away from both Sam and Natasha and headed out across the parking lot. Beside Sam, Natasha dropped her nuggets back into the box. She stared after Steve.

“Steve!” she called, but he was either too far away (doubtful since he had super hearing) or he just didn’t want to listen. He kept walking and a few minutes later disappeared from their sight.

Sam turned to look at Natasha and felt his heart sink a little. Emotions were actually playing over her face. He thought she looked almost hurt.

She turned her attention to him.

“I’m sorry,” she said. She shook her head, her shoulders slumped a little. “I shouldn’t have come.”

He felt horrible for her. He wanted to reach out and comfort her, tell her he was glad she was here and Steve was just being stupid, but he shook his head instead. 

“Don’t worry about him,” he told her. “He’s just stressed. The search for Bucky isn’t going so well.”

“Yeah.” She looked back across the parking lot. “But if I wasn’t here …”

“It’s not you, Natasha,” he said quickly, the need to comfort her almost overwhelming. “He’s just in his own head.”

When she didn’t answer, he continued. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said, then added, “I missed you.”

She smiled at that — a small, sad smile but a real one, Sam thought.

“I guess I thought about you once or twice,” she said.

He laughed, and her smile grew wider.

“Sounds about right,” he said.

He finished his food, Natasha by his side still picking a little at hers. Neither one of them said anything, but it was the most relaxed things had felt since she had arrived. After a while, she crumpled up the bag with her half-eaten food and got to her feet.

“I’ll be right back,” she told him. He nodded at her, and she disappeared inside the restaurant. 

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He wished there was something he could do about the two of them. Continuing on like this didn’t seem to be the best plan, and neither one of them were doing much to help themselves.

There had been a time — well, there still was a time — when he had wondered about both of them and whether it could work with either of them. But he knew Natasha just flirted with him for fun, and he didn’t think Steve was at all interested. He was absolutely sure, though, that what they each felt for each other wasn’t just friendship.

A noise in the distance made him open his eyes. Steve was heading back, his hands stuffed in his pockets, his face full of remorse. He stopped by the car, looking like he was carrying a load of guilt on his shoulders, and Sam got to his feet to stand beside him.

Steve raised his eyes to Sam. Sam could see the regret in them. 

“Sorry,” Steve said. “That wasn’t cool.”

Sam shrugged. Who was he to judge? “Feeling better?” he asked instead.

“The walk helped,” Steve said. “There’s just …” He paused for a moment, before finishing, “There’s just a lot.”

Sam couldn’t help it. He reached out and laid a hand on Steve’s arm. His friend looked so miserable and so full of pain.

“I know,” he said. 

He wanted to say more, but the sound of footsteps approaching stopped him. Natasha, her arms full of cups, appeared in front of them.

“Milkshakes,” she said, almost uncertainly. 

Steve reached out to take his first, and Sam could see the relief almost visible on Natasha’s face.

“Thanks,” Steve said. 

Natasha turned and handed Sam his too. 

“Thanks,” he told her. 

Steve had pulled the car keys from his pocket. He held them up in front of him. 

“You want to drive?” he said to Natasha.

She reached out to take them, a real smile once again breaking over her face. “I thought you’d never ask.”

\--

It could barely be considered a room, was Sam’s first thought. But then, it could barely be called a hotel either. If there had been anything else closer or it wasn’t so late, this place would not even be a remote possibility.

He glanced at his two companions. They were both staring at the lumpy bed that took up almost all the space. They had both seemed slightly more relaxed the last few hours, but he could tell they were tired.

Steve spoke first. “I can sleep in the car,” he said. “You two can have the room.”

“No,” Sam said, without even a thought. He realized Natasha said it at the same time as him.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Steve,” Natasha said. “I’m the smallest. You guys take the bed. I can sleep on the floor.”

Sam sighed as Steve told her, “You aren’t sleeping on the floor.”

“I can take the floor,” Sam said, because he figured he should offer as well. Plus, the two of them really could use time to sort out their whole ordeal. “Or the car,” he added as an afterthought.

“No,” Steve and Natasha both responded, just as Sam knew they would.

“I barely need sleep anyway,” Steve said.

“I’ve slept in way worse places than a floor,” Natasha said. 

Again, Sam sighed. “I really don’t mind,” he said. But he knew the other two weren’t going to give in, and neither was he.

Finally, Natasha said what they were all thinking. “Why don’t we all just share?”

There was a moment of silence while everyone accepted this as the only solution. 

“If you’re sure,” Steve finally said.

“I’m sure,” Natasha said.

“Fine,” Sam agreed, and put his small bag down, claiming the edge to himself so the two of them would have to be close together.

\--

A screamed wrenched the air. And then another one.

_Natasha._

Steve got to her first, holding her hands in his while he called her name, loudly and repeatedly. Finally, she jerked, her eyes flying open, wild terror still evident across her face,

“Natasha!” Steve’s voice was calm, even as he raised it to be heard over the terror and panic they both knew she was feeling. “It’s okay. It’s us. It’s Steve, it’s Sam, you’re okay.”

In an instant, all the fight drained out of her body. She slumped backward as Steve let go of his grip on her. Sam switched on the light by the bed and noticed how flushed she looked. She dropped her eyes so she was staring at her hands.

Steve reached for her, and this time his hold on her was gentle, tender. Loving, Sam would even say.

“It’s okay,” Steve said, and his voice was as gentle and loving as his touch. “It happens.”

Natasha didn’t look up at him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, and Sam heard her voice waver just slightly. 

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” Sam told her, but she didn’t react.

Sam saw Steve squeeze her hand. “Come on,” Steve said. “Let’s try to go back to sleep.”

Natasha looked up at. The fear was evident on her face.

“We’ve got you,” Steve said quietly. 

“We both do,” Sam said.

Natasha still looked unsure, but Sam got her a glass of water and Steve whispered to her quietly and finally she let them lay her back down. Steve lay down next to her, wrapping his arms around her and holding her to him, so her back was against his chest. Sam got back in bed on her other side and scooted over until he was also pressed up against her. He reached up and cupped the back of her head, running his fingers through her hair until she settled against his chest. Then he dropped his hand to hook over her waist, his hand also on Steve’s arm.

Warm. Cozy. Safe. The three of them.

This is how it should be, was the last thought Sam had before drifting back off to sleep.

\--

If Sam had thought things would be better come morning, he was sadly mistaken. All the tension that had vanished during the night when the three of them were cuddled together was back and increased tenfold. 

He watched as Natasha and Steve took turns using the bathroom, avoiding each other as if they thought they were going to catch the plague. Finally, after they accidentally bumped into each other and each stammered out apologies for almost a minute, he’d had enough.

“Okay, this is ridiculous,” he said, cutting through them, and they both turned to look at him. “We are all going to go get some food and sit down and talk. Like normal people and not stunted ones with all kinds of issues.”

Natasha smiled slightly at that, and he thought she was going to say that she wasn’t the one with issues, but instead she and Steve just nodded and followed him out of the room.

Half an hour later they were seated at an old picnic table in a park that was more overgrown weeds than anything, but at least it was hidden away and there was no one around, and they weren’t in their crowded hotel room or the car.

Sam waited till everyone was almost done eating before he began.

“You,” he said, pointing at Steve, “And you” — pointing at Natasha — “need to start communicating with each other. Isn’t that most of your job anyway, to be able to communicate with your partner?”

Steve looked sheepish, but Natasha shrugged.

“I’m used to working alone,” she said.

Steve turned to her. “Then why did you come back?” he said, and Sam could hear the frustration in his voice. “You’re the one who left, and you’re the one who chose to come back.” He paused for a beat. “And don’t lie to us.”

Natasha met his gaze. Sam couldn’t read her expression. Finally, she spoke.

“I owe you,” she said. “For saving me when you didn’t have to. I want to help you find Bucky.”

“To even a debt?” Steve said. He sounded almost bitter.

“Yes.”

“Is that the only reason?”

Natasha didn’t answer. Sam felt his heart skip a beat. This was it. She could say yes, and that would be the end of it. Steve would be bitter, but he would accept it. And Natasha would probably disappear again at the end of this journey, and who knew if they would ever see her again?

Or she could say no, which Sam suspected was the actual truth. He just wasn’t sure if it was a truth Natasha was willing to admit.

“Well?” Steve prompted.

Natasha looked like she was steeling herself for whatever she was about to say. Her gaze didn’t leave Steve’s.

“No,” she said.

“No?”

“I wasn’t lying when I said I missed you.”

Steve was quiet for a second, but then he exploded. “But I texted you, Natasha! And left you voicemails! And you ignored us. For _three months_. You didn’t even tell us if you were okay!”

“I know.”

“Did you forget how to use a phone?”

“Of course not.” Sam saw her take a deep breath. “I didn’t know how you felt about me.”

“ _I_ tried to reach out to _you_.”

“That doesn’t always mean anything, Steve.”

This time, Steve’s face softened, and as Sam watched, he could almost see the anger ebbing away. They both knew what Natasha was telling them was the truth; she would never be this vulnerable if she didn’t have to be.

“You know I’m always honest, Nat,” Steve said. “I wouldn’t have told you I missed you if I didn’t.”

“You didn’t,” Natasha said. “You asked me how I was and said you were wondering. That’s not saying you miss me.” She tilted her head a little to the side as she studied him. “But if you’re so honest,” she continued, “then why didn’t you just tell me yesterday you didn’t want me here?”

“What?” Steve said.

“I’m not stupid,” Natasha said. “I know you wish I didn’t come back.”

“That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” she pressed. “You’ve barely spoken to me. You barely look at me. And when I touched you, you pulled away like I burned you. How is any of that saying you’re glad I’m here?”

Steve looked away.

“Steve?” she pressed.

He turned back to her. “I was jealous, okay? And I was being stupid.”

Natasha stared at him, confusion on her face.

“What?”

“I know you didn’t come back for me,” he said.

Natasha still looked confused. “Of course I did,” she said.

“No, you didn’t.”

“Why are you telling me I didn’t when I did?”

“Because you didn’t,” Steve argued. “And you don’t have to lie to me.”

“I’m not lying!” Natasha said.

“She’s not lying,” Sam said.

“What?” Steve looked at Sam. So did Natasha.

“She’s in love with you,” Sam said, frustrated that his friend could be so dense. The most beautiful, badass girl in the world wanted to be with him and he was pushing her away because he couldn’t see that.

“What?” Steve said, his mouth dropping open.

Natasha went bright red. Except for the night before, Sam had never seen her blush. He hadn’t thought it was something he did.

“I wouldn’t say that exactly,” she mumbled to the picnic table.

Steve was still staring at Sam. “But she likes you,” he said.

Sam laughed. “No, she doesn’t.”

If it was possible, Natasha looked even more flushed. She lifted her head. “Maybe I like both of you,” she said.

“What?” Steve and Sam said together.

Natasha shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t actually have experience in this type of thing. I’ve pretended to be in a lot of relationships, but I’ve never really …” She trailed off, changed tactics. “I missed you both. I wanted to be with you both.”

“You want to be with us both?” Steve repeated.

Natasha nodded. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“Don’t be sorry,” Sam said. “I want to be with you both too.”

“What?” Steve and Natasha stared at him. Steve looked dumbfounded. Natasha looked slightly relieved.

“Apparently Avengers are my type,” Sam said, shrugging. “I think I must be a masochist.”

Natasha’s lips turned up at that. They both looked at Steve.

“I know you like her,” Sam said.

“I know you like _him_ ,” Natasha said.

Sam and Natasha looked at each other and then back at Steve.

“Okay,” Steve finally said. “Maybe I do.” 

They all looked at each other. “So what do we do now then?” Steve asked.

“Don’t ask me,” Natasha said. “You know I have no idea.”

They both looked at Sam. He grinned, his heart a million pounds lighter all of a sudden. 

“We try to find Bucky,” he said. “And then we figure it out. Together.”

“Together,” Natasha repeated. She held her hands out. Sam and Steve each took one.

“Together,” Steve said, and he and Sam joined their other hands.

They all looked at each other again, this time taking their time, like they were seeing something for the first time. 

Maybe they were.

“Together,” Sam said one final time, and then they all stood up together.

It was time to find Bucky, and get started on their lives.


End file.
